Breath of Earth
by Automatonation
Summary: An Altpower! Taylor oneshot


Breath of Earth

It was a dark and stormy night. Trite, I know, but accurate. Clouds boiled in the sky above Brockton Bay, heavy with the threat of rain. Flashes of lightning on the horizon flashed faintly, sending glowing bursts of sickly green through the pregnant sky. I pulled my heavy cloak tighter around me, peering out from under my cowl at the small gathering of asian men in red and green congregating in the alley, unaware of my presence in a shadowed alcove next to a dumpster. Fourteen AZN Bad Boyz, bristling with knives and guns, nervously glanced between the shadows around them and the shirtless man standing in front of them, heavily muscled and tattooed arms crossed against his chest.

"I don't care how old they are, those brats have crossed the Bad Boyz for the last time." the asian man rumbled from behind his dragon mask. "They will learn what it means to defy Lung. I don't care if they're lying on the ground, begging for mercy, you put one in their heads, just in case." Lung glared at his men. "Don't disappoint me."

One of the Bad Boyz, who had a sawed off shotgun cradled in his arms, nervously spoke up. "And what if She shows up?" The question set off a cascade of nervous glances and worried nods from his fellows. Lung snorted, a jet of flame shooting from his nostrils, and visibly grew taller and bulkier.

"Leave Her to me."

Well, that was my cue. I placed one hand flat against the brick wall beside me, reaching out with my mind to the metal pipes and wires embedded in the walls, bending them to my will, molding them into a stylized staff, decorated with a snarling dragon's head, before pulling it to me, the brick flowing like water around the weapon as it emerged. I smiled. Image was important, after all. Staff in hand, I strode forward, cloak billowing around me as I slammed the iron shod butt of the staff into the ground, the loud clang echoing through the alley. Fifteen heads focused on me. Guns and knives aimed in my direction. Lung grew taller, flame starting to billow from his eyes and mouth. I smiled, the metal of my mask mirroring my movements as I flared my cloak. "You rang?"

The ABB members with guns opened fire - or tried to. My power was sufficient to stop the hammers from falling, before warping the metal and polymer of the weapons into coiling snakes that bound hands and sank steel fangs into flesh. Arms of steel and asphalt erupted from the street, grabbing legs and tripping the flailing men, before melting into solid bonds holding them motionless against the ground. Thunder rolled, and Lung charged. I grinned, and swung my staff as I dodged, the elongated teeth of the dragon head digging into his arm as I spun away from him. At my command, the dumpster shuddered and melted, forming a massive skeletal panther of green-flecked steel that pounced and ravaged the supervillian with four inch long claws, leaving long tears in his flesh that rapidly healed and sprouted shining silver scales. I turned my thoughts to the construct that I had hidden in an adjacent alley, a massive serpent of titanium and steel, scavenged from the ships in the Graveyard. At my command, the great beast into life, the generator in its gut sending bolts of crackling electricity coursing over fangs like cavalry sabers. It slithered into the alley, and struck at Lung. The supervillain was still wrestling against the iron panther, and had grown to nearly twelve feet tall, grotesquely misshapen and covered in shining silver scales that turned away the steel claws with showers of sparks. My viper's fangs sank deep into his abdomen, the electricity sending his limbs twitching as he howled with pain and anger.

A thought, and the serpent's body morphed and divided into a multi-limbed kraken, winding and interweaving dozens of slender tentacles around the flailing, flaming limbs of my opponent. I slammed the butt of my staff on the ground again, and a massive hand of solid stone sprang up from the bedrock and closed into a fist around Lung, smothering the flame that was threatening to melt my steel allies. In my mind's eye, I saw Lung struggling, unable to get leverage against the grasping tendrils and immobilzing stone, pumped full of electricity that disrupted his thoughts and muscles, choked for oxygen. The stone trembled, and I laid it down gently on the asphalt, the fist reshaping into an egg as Lung's struggles, even fueled by his power, grew weaker.

I glanced around at the gang members lying on the ground, shaking with fear, and smiled faintly, reshaping their bonds with my power into woven steel cables wrapped firmly around their limbs. Another tap of my staff, and the asphalt bulged up underneath each ABB into pitch black scorpions, the size of large dogs, with the gang members held tightly on their backs with their pincers. I strode over to the egg containing Lung, now still and shrinking rapidly. I could sense his heartbeat through the metal fangs embedded in his chest. Weak and thready… he wasn't breathing either. I hurriedly opened multiple small air holes through the stone shell, and loosened the binds on Lung's chest so he could breath. I didn't want to kill him, after all. As Lung's heartbeat stabilized, I withdrew the metal fangs from his chest, to let his healing factor work, and reformed the electrodes on his temples, drawing extraneous metal from the Kraken construct into a metal framework that extruded out of the stone shell into four crab-like legs. Thunder rolled, and rain began to fall, spattering off my heavy cloak. smiling, I turned, the road rising in pillars under my feet as an impromptu staircase towards the roof of an adjacent building. I climbed in silence, and as my head rose above the roof, I saw four figures, and three massive beasts, lurking in the shadows. As I stepped onto the roof, I nodded politely.

"Good evening." Grue nodded grudgingly, as Regent gave a lazy wave. "Staying out of trouble?"

Grue shrugged, pitch black shadows streaming from underneath his skull shaped helmet. "We are now. Thanks for the assist." He held out a hand, and I strode forward and shook it firmly, manipulating the materials in my glove to simulate a superhuman grip strength.

"My pleasure. Lung has run rampant for far too long." I cocked my head to the side. "So how did you 'defy' Lung?"

Tattletale spoke up with a smirk. "We raided one of his illegal casinos." She stared at me for a moment. "So. How did you know we were here?"

I smiled vaguely, letting my mask, the stylized image of a maiden in rest, smile with me. Tattletale's eyes went wide. "That would be telling." Lung twitched in his cocoon of steel and stone, and I shocked him back into unconsciousness.

"You can sense through anything you are changing."

I said nothing, and turned to leave. Lung wouldn't stay caught forever, and the Undersiders were a small-time gang that mostly harassed the other, more dangerous gangs. After all, what was money, really? I was more focused on putting away those who harmed others, like… I pushed my thoughts away. Not right now. Later. A hand landed on my shoulder. I snapped my head around, only to stare Tattletale in they eye. I shook off the hand.

"You know, we really do appreciate the assist. We'd be willing to cut you in on part of our take of the casino job." She stated, smirking slightly. I was shaking my head before she even finished.

"Do you want to get taken in with Lung?" I asked. "Don't offer me money. I'm letting you walk as it is."

Tattletale got an odd look on her face. "So you're a vigilante? I thought that the rumors… What's your name?"

I stepped the edge of the roof, glancing down at the incapacitated criminals below me, before turning to face the undersiders again. Six feet below me, I extruded a platform from the wall. "Anima." I stated, and stepped backwards in a billow of black cloth. Smirking, I dropped, using the platform to slow my fall, supporting myself with the armored material of my costume as I descended rapidly to the ground. As I strode over to my prisoners, the constructs underneath them stirring back to life at my command, I sensed, in the hollow shapes in air and fabric, four nervous supervillians rushing to peer over the edge. Stairs formed out of the stone shell of Lung's egg as I walked up, and I climbed, without breaking pace, to a throne that extruded itself from the top. As I led my band of creatures out of the alley, on the long trek to the PRT headquarters, I waved jauntily at the undersiders. "Be good!"

FIN

Anima: Shaker 12, Master 5, Thinker 4

Anima is capable of manipulating and shaping any unliving matter within an indeterminate range, and typically creates moving animals out of her surroundings to act as minions, although she has demonstrated that the use of minions is not mandatory for her power. In addition to this, Anima has shown that she is capable of sensing or detecting nearly anything around her, although she tries to downplay this aspect of her power. She has refused to work with the Protectorate on multiple occasions,but she is firmly on the side of order in Brockton Bay, routinely capturing violent capes and gang members.

Threat assessment: Anima is friendly, but extremely dangerous. If it becomes necessary to engage her, do so at extreme range, preferably with coherent light weaponry or knock-out gas, neither of which she has been seen to notice. If engaged at close range, retreat if possible, or surrender.

AN: Yep, Anima is Taylor. Pulled an AU on this one. Danny Hebert was killed in a botched mugging outside an outdoor theater where Parian was giving one of her first shows, in front of Annette and Taylor. QA pinged Parian, decided "anything you can do, I can do better," and manifested as extreme microscale TK with perception of whatever she can manipulate. Taylor is better adjusted, due to having a mom, having awesome powers, and generally being better off. The whole bullying thing didn't go through, but Emma and Taylor drifted apart, after one aborted attempt at intimidation prompted by Sophia. Annette's perspective of the Protectorate was skewed by some of the stuff she saw around Lustrum, so she discouraged Taylor from joining up. Taylor grew up with more of a literary influence, so she appreciates theatricality more.

Don't plan on continuing, just had to get this idea out of my head. I'm not particularly pleased with how it went, but it does demonstrate my Lung plan: distract, then overwhelm and smother.

Anyone who wants to yoink Anima is welcome to her.


End file.
